


Sleepless

by dotfic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-13
Updated: 2008-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotfic/pseuds/dotfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Insomnia sucks. Sam and Dean have a late-night conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: Written for [](http://embroiderama.livejournal.com/profile)[**embroiderama**](http://embroiderama.livejournal.com/) 's birthday. Set a few days after "Metamorphosis" and way more comfort than we're going to get between them in canon. Thank you to [](http://innie-darling.livejournal.com/profile)[**innie_darling**](http://innie-darling.livejournal.com/) for looking it over for me.

Sam couldn't sleep, but that was nothing new. In the other bed, Dean was lying on his stomach, quiet, and Sam figured that his brother was out for the night. He was sleeping under the covers this time, had put on his most faded Metallica t-shirt and boxers instead of passing out in his jeans on top of the bedspread. Which was good; at least one of them seemed to feel better.

The digital readout of the clock radio on the bedside table read 3:52 and Sam stared at the numbers burning into the darkness of the motel room until their shapes were etched onto the inside of his eyelids. He turned over, kicked impatiently at the sheets tangled around his ankles, turned back over, and saw the digits flick to 4:00.

"Can't sleep, huh?" Dean's voice was muffled.

It took Sam a few heartbeats to answer, since he hadn't expected an audience for his tossing and turning. "Not really."

The room went hushed again and Sam lay on his back, smelling damp, old leaves on the air that came in through the window they'd left open an inch. It smelled like Halloween already, of old losses.

"You made me _promise_ ," Dean said tersely, a scratch beneath the whisper.

Sam jerked in his bed, startled.

His own heartbeat was all Sam could focus on for a moment and he thought maybe Dean was talking in his sleep, or maybe he'd said something else. Or maybe he hadn't spoken at all, and he was hearing Dean's voice in his head, the way he had during those four months.

Then he took a deep breath. "I know." Sam put as much apology into his voice as he could, wanted to form the actual words, but Dean hadn't sounded accusing. Despite the terseness, it had sounded almost like a plea.

The digital clock read 4:13 before Dean stirred in his bed, turning over with a sigh, and Sam said, his voice low, "I take it back."

He heard Dean's sigh turn to a sharp intake of breath, and then Dean sat up and switched on the light.

Sam rubbed his eyes with his fingers, trying to push away the bleariness, then glanced over at Dean. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his palm over his spiky bed hair and then over his face, blinking, before he snapped in an instant to sharpness.

"You take it back?" Dean kept his voice low, but he said it sharply, a whisper-shout. He sounded more astonished than furious.

"I'm, yeah. Releasing you from it." That sounded lame, he knew Dean would think it sounded lame, but Sam had no idea what people said for something like this. And it wasn't as if there was a Latin phrase, a ritual or incantation. _No take backs or do-overs._

The light caught Dean's amulet, making it gleam against the dark, faded logo on his chest. "You can't just take it back. It doesn't work like that." Still Dean's voice was low; Sam thought it'd be easier if Dean would just yell at him again.

Dean seemed to be trying really hard not to yell this time.

"Too bad. I'm taking it back." Sam pushed himself up until his back was against the headboard.

"But I don't want…" Dean's hand curled into a fist against his thigh. "Okay, you release me." He waved his other hand. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to always try to help you."

"Maybe you can't."

"What?" Dean's glare was laser-sharp.

"I want to stop. But I don't know if I can." Sam was careful to keep his eyes on the blank TV screen across the room. Tried not to feel a ghost memory of power tingling through his fingers.

"So, we'll deal with that. I mean, what was all that bullshit anway, _it's just something I gotta deal with_." Dean mimicked him, but his voice was steady, as if he was weighing every word, measuring them out in the silence of the pre-dawn. "How many times do we have to go over this? Yeah, I was gone." Shifting on the bed, Dean put his hand against his own chest. "And maybe neither of us should promise shit we can't deliver." Before Sam could say anything at that, hearing the echo of his own promises during Dean's last year in his head, Dean went on, and Sam realized he was talking about his own failures, not Sam's. "There are no guarantees, Sammy. We do our best. We're hunters and either one of us could kick it because we got sloppy with a poltergeist, never mind Hell deals—"

"A deal you never should have made…"

"Shut up, emo boy, let me finish. I was gone. But I'm here." Dean thumped his palm against his chest. "I'm here right _now_ and as long as I'm here I. Will. Help. You."

Then Dean switched off the light and Sam heard him rustling around, getting back under the covers.

"You jackass," he heard Dean say under his breath, after he settled.

"Butthead," murmured Sam.

A dog barked far off, and Sam heard the soft, odd knocks and creaks of tree branches brushing against the motel walls. He sat with his knees bent, kept his back against the headboard, and started to feel sleepy. The knot he'd had in his stomach for the last few days lessened.

"Hey, Sam?" Dean said, voice muffled again.

"Yeah?"

"When I sleep, sometimes I see these…flashes." It sounded as if Dean has his face half-buried in the pillow, as if he was turned away from Sam. "Noise. And light. I'm remembering," Dean mumbled.

Sam wanted to say _it'll be all right_ but they'd just decided not to do that anymore, hadn't they?

Instead he said, "I'm here right now, Dean." He'd probably sit up for a while, watch for nightmares. "You can go to sleep."

~end


End file.
